


Switch It

by who_la_hoop



Category: Junjou Romantica
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-21
Updated: 2008-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-08 06:20:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/who_la_hoop/pseuds/who_la_hoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[written for Yuletide 2008] Usami's latest BL novel is making Misaki blush even more than usual, there's an unexpected home gym cluttering up the living room, and the fridge is overflowing with protein drinks. Only one possible conclusion can be drawn: Usami's got a plan . . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	Switch It

The book hit the wall with a thud. It wasn't a satisfying thud, Misaki thought as he stared at it, willing it to burst into flames and send him – and all his problems – to a fiery grave. In fact, the book – its jacket pink and covered with flowers – looked _reproachful_ if anything, the happy couple embracing amongst the roses gazing up at him with huge, sad eyes. Even when Misaki screwed his eyelids tight shut the book was still there – reminding him that he couldn't do the things he—

It wasn't that he wanted to. No way. It was just basic research, into the sort of things that appeared in perverted Usagi's perverted fantasy land. Things that he'd said he didn't want to do in real life – but Misaki wasn't buying that, not one bit. He'd read some of Usagi's BL novels before, of course. But he hadn't expected to see – to see – to see _that_.

Taking a deep breath, Misaki shot up and rescued the book from its forlorn place on the floor, opening it up again. He grimaced as his eyes landed upon a particularly pornographic passage, feeling himself flush from head to toe. Yes, he thought, shutting the book with more force than was strictly necessary, it was the usual pervert Usagi fare. But with one vital difference: the identity of the seme.

Misaki felt himself get even redder. Stupid Usagi! If it hadn't been for him and his vile, unspeakable BL novels, Misaki would have been blissfully ignorant about the meaning of – of _seme_ and – and _uke_, and how they fitted into his own life in particular. He couldn't deny that, when pervert Usagi molested him, however, it was always Usagi initiating it. Always Usagi pressing him down, with his chilly, large hands and smug, infuriating smile. And always Usagi, putting his . . .

Misaki shook his head hard. What the hell was he thinking about that for? It wasn't like he wanted to put his own – he couldn't even _think_ the word without dying of embarrassment – in Usagi. He was a man! He shouldn't be doing that to other men! And other men should definitely not be doing that to him, no matter what stupid things he said when his guard was lowered, and no matter how much he liked—

Why was it, Misaki thought with irritation, that all his problems lately had a "u" in them? It didn't seem fair that that "u" wasn't just about the rabbit himself. He had the rabbit's father – and brother – to deal with, and stupid Usagi's own issues with his family, making everything worse whatever he did. And now "u" was also for "uke" and that pervert was making him not only think about _taking control_, but almost suggesting that he _wanted_ Misaki to do so. And – worse and worse – soon it would be Usagi's birthday, and if Misaki asked him what he wanted, Usagi would most likely smile in that lecherous way he had and say "you" and . . .

"Misaki?"

Misaki nearly leapt out of his skin, clutching the book tightly to him before he realised what he was doing – and then shoving it under the covers of his bed. He turned on his expression of innocence. "U–Usagi-san!" he said. "I didn't know you were still up. Can I get you some—"

Usagi leaned against the doorframe. "Is that my new book?" he asked, in an offhand manner.

"N–no!" Misaki lied, shifting to try and sit on the book. "Absolutely not! There's no way I'd read—"

Usagi strode over to him, reaching under the covers and pulling it out. He didn't say anything, and this somehow made it worse. Misaki could feel himself going practically purple with shame. Usagi had written that he'd like "Misaki" to – to do things to him that Misaki really wasn't sure he had the common manly courage to do, and Misaki had read it, and now Usagi _knew_ that he had read it.

"I – I'm going to make some tea!" Misaki said, shooting up and trying to make for the door and sweet freedom.

Usagi's arm shot out and grabbed the back of his top, leaving him to flail like a fish on a hook. "What did you think?"

"Eh?" Misaki said, hoping that he could feign ignorance and get out of it.

"About the book?"

Misaki broke free of Usagi's grip and turned around crossly. "I am a man! A Japanese man! There's no way—" He stopped, aware that he wasn't quite getting his point across.

"You'd never have the guts," Usagi said, tucking the book under his arm. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette and put it to his lips. "To do that," he continued. "Would you?"

"I _do_!" Misaki protested, clenching his fists. Stupid Usagi, casting aspersions on his masculinity!

Usagi turned an expression of disbelief upon him. "You do?"

"Yes!" Miskai said, losing sight of what they were talking about in his rage. "And I'll prove it!"

Usagi lit his cigarette and took a long draw, standing up and walking past Misaki. "Right."

"It – it can be your birthday present!" Misaki said desperately, sure that Usagi didn't believe a word he was saying.

"Heh," Usagi said. As he left Misaki's room he tossed the book back at Misaki, who caught it, suddenly feeling a chill of fear run down his spine. "You might want this back then. So you know what to do."

When Misaki was left alone he pushed his head into his pillow and attempted to muffle his cries of despair by biting through it. He couldn't believe what he'd just agreed to – had, he thought, been _manipulated_ in to – but now he had, he was determined to follow through with it, or die in the attempt. He would – would top Usagi, and Usagi would enjoy it! He could do it, no problem!

Misaki burrowed his head further into the pillow and waited for death to claim him. He couldn't do it. It was hopeless. It was going to be a complete humiliation – and one that stupid Usagi would never let him forget.

***** 

The next day Misaki came home from college – and dropped the bag of groceries he was carrying. He hadn't meant to. It was just that when he'd left in the morning, there was a complete lack of home gym, cluttering up the living room. Now, however, there was. He stared at the equipment. If he wanted to get to the sofa he'd have to practically do the limbo under some kind of weights machine.

Pulling himself together, Misaki picked up the groceries – glad he hadn't bought eggs that day – and made his way to the fridge. He opened it up and, once again, found himself staring. It was packed with . . . He picked up a can and promptly had a heart attack. It was a drink for building muscles. He shoved it back in, as far as he could, trying to find space for the actual food that he'd bought.

"Welcome home," Usagi said, giving Misaki get another heart attack as unexpected arms slid around his waist, impeding his progress with the unpacking.

"Usagi-san!" Misaki said, wriggling his way out of Usagi's grasp. He placed one palm flat on Usagi's chest and pushed him away. "What is all this?"

Usagi looked blank for a moment. "It's for you," he said. Then he moved away, walking towards the stairs. "Got to get back to my novel," he said.

"Wait!" Misaki called.

Usagi turned around. "Yes?"

Misaki realised that the conversation was doomed. What exactly was he supposed to say? "Nothing," he muttered. "If you want to waste your money on useless things that's your business."

Usagi nodded vaguely and continued to his study, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Misaki surveyed the home gym. He reflected on the muscle-building drinks that were overflowing out of the refrigerator. And he bent forward and hit his head on the kitchen counter, hoping for brain damage.

Either Usagi was mocking him – and that was unlikely, because Usagi didn't really _do_ mocking – or he was actually serious about wanting Misaki to do _that thing_. And Usagi never asked for anything from Misaki. And Misaki had _promised_, even though he hadn't thought Usagi had taken him seriously.

He really, _really_ was going to have to do it.

And Usagi's birthday was in under a week.

Oh, Misaki thought. Oh _shit_.

***** 

Several days later, Misaki had moved on to the good old standby of `ignoring the problem and hoping it would go away'. It was either that or panic. He'd re-read Usagi's BL novel twice now – pushing past the embarrassment – and, although he had a technical idea of what to do (and already had, to be honest – he just had to what Usagi did to him, but in reverse, right?), he still had no idea how he'd ever have the courage to do it. He couldn't see himself _ever_ having the courage to do it – let alone on Saturday night, _this_ Saturday night, after he'd taken Usagi out for the birthday meal he'd had planned for a while now.

Misaki had even tried a little role-play – facing the bathroom mirror and pretending that he was speaking to Usagi. It hadn't done any good. He couldn't even look _himself_ in the eye, so how was he going to take any control over Usagi?

So no, it was denial all the way. That and the home-gym – although he was still aching from the brief session he'd done the first day it had arrived – and his toe was still bruised from tripping over the edge of one of the contraptions. After one sniff of the muscle-building drink he'd thrown them all away, ignoring Usagi's hurt expression with a will.

Perhaps, Misaki thought as he put on another load of laundry, if he ignored the problem it would go away. Otherwise there was always the option of fleeing the country. Or suicide. Or joining the circus. He nodded at the washing machine. Yes, he thought, trying to cheer up, there were always options, whatever the problem.

***** 

Usagi was being weird again, Misaki thought as he took a sip of his wine and tried to look like he always took men out to dinner. It was a more expensive restaurant than he could really afford, but he'd worked a lot of overtime at his part-time job lately and he had some money saved up. He frowned. Stupid Usagi. Why wasn't he enjoying himself? He was just sitting there, his hair falling in front of his eyes, staring down at his chopsticks.

But when Misaki launched into a monologue, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence, Usagi finally looked more like himself. He smiled a little and drank some of his wine, and Misaki continued talking aimlessly, smiling back and feeling a whole lot happier. Maybe this evening wouldn't be so difficult after all.

When they got home, however, Misaki felt so nervous he wanted to die. Just looking at the home gym reminded him of what Usagi wanted from him, so he turned around, switching on the coffee machine and trying to focus on that. He expected Usagi's arms to slide around him, but they didn't. He almost felt annoyed, but then he scowled at the coffee machine. Why did he want stupid Usagi to hug him, anyway?

He poured out the coffee and passed a mug over to Usagi. Usagi was just standing there, rather awkwardly, but he took the coffee and – didn't drink it.

"What's wrong?" Misaki said, trying not to stammer.

"Nothing," Usagi said, in a tone that suggested that there was.

Misaki put down his mug. "If you have something to say then just say it!" he said, his voice too loud for the quiet of the room.

"I think I'm going to go to bed," Usagi said, his head tipped forward so his hair covered his eyes. "Thank you for the meal, Misaki, it was a thoughtful present."

Misaki grimaced at the word `present'. He hadn't promised a meal as a present. He'd promised—

"Wait!" Misaki said.

Usagi waited. Misaki tried very hard to force himself over to Usagi and – what? He tried to think what Usagi usually did to him. But he wasn't as tall as Usagi, and he didn't have the strength to pin Usagi down. Surely Usagi didn't want to be pinned down? "I – uh—" Misaki said.

"Don't worry," Usagi said very quietly, his head bowed. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Misaki felt his face heat up. He expected he looked a bit like a tomato. "I–I," he started. Then he clenched his fists and stood up as tall as he could. "I will if you want me to," he said, his heart pounding in his chest.

Strangely, Usagi didn't _do_ anything though. He continued to just stand there, not looking at Misaki. He didn't speak. Then he set the mug he was still holding down on the counter and turned, stiffly, walking away.

Misaki stood there watching him for a moment, frozen in place. Then he moved, grabbing Usagi's arm. "Stop."

Usagi stopped.

Misaki supposed he should do something now. He tried to summon his manly courage – he knew he had some somewhere – and tugged hard on Usagi's arm, spinning him round to face him. Usagi didn't resist, but he didn't take control back either, which was disconcerting. Misaki felt stupid, but he stood up on his tiptoes and kissed Usagi on the lips.

Usagi was unresponsive for a moment and Misaki felt a bit like dying – it was the first time he'd initiated a kiss, as far as he could remember – but then Usagi reached for him, tugging him closer and kissing him so softly that Misaki's insides turned to goo. It wasn't that Usagi was hard or harsh, usually, but he'd never felt so tentative against Misaki's lips before.

Misaki was good at denying his feelings for Usagi. He was skilled at protesting when Usagi touched him. But now he felt, for once, like it would be cruel to make a fuss. He'd just have to bear it. And the feel of Usagi's body, warm and soft against his own, wasn't so bad, he supposed. Was, in fact, rather nice. He smelled of spices and he didn't taste of cigarettes for once – just a hint of the sweet dessert they'd eaten at the restaurant.

Misaki broke off the kiss and (although it felt like the most intimate thing he'd ever done), grabbed Usagi's wrist and pulled him up the stairs and into Usagi's bedroom. He halted, just in front of the bed. The room was packed, as usual, with children's toys. Suzuki-san was on the bed, looking at him. Misaki dropped Usagi's wrist and moved forward, picking up the bear and putting it on the floor, facing the wall.

When he turned back to Usagi, Usagi was still doing that `imitation of a statue' thing, standing awkwardly where Misaki had left him. Misaki began to suspect that he'd be able to go through with it after all – if only because Usagi was so _frustrating_, and when he felt irritated it was easier to push Usagi around. Maybe that was the key to getting through this?

"Misaki," Usagi said. "You should go to bed."

"Shut up," Misaki said, his voice sounding higher than usual to his ears. He pulled on Usagi's arm once more, and they half-fell onto the bed.

Usagi made a startled noise and Misaki gulped when he found himself mostly on top of Usagi. He fought down the urge to flee, pushing down on Usagi's arms and trying to think of something macho to say.

Then Usagi moved, easily managing to free himself, and Misaki found himself in his usual position, flat on his back with Usagi towering over him. For some reason, however, this irritated him. After all that worry and stress, were things just going to go exactly the same way as usual?

"I love you," Usagi said, and leaned down to kiss Misaki.

"Mmmph," Misaki said, trying to push Usagi off.

"I love you," Usagi repeated. "I love you."

Misaki glared at him. "Will you just listen for once?"

"You're not saying anything," Usagi pointed out after a brief pause.

Misaki opened his mouth – and stopped. The words just wouldn't come out.

Usagi smiled, but Misaki thought he looked disappointed – disappointed and sad.

"It's not a fight!" Misaki said, finding sudden inspiration. If he treated this like a lecture on an abstract subject, maybe he could get his point across. "It's a meeting of two equals – or, sort of," he amended. After all, he wasn't exactly the equal of Lord Usami, the famous novelist, was he? But then he realised that that wasn't helping his point. "I mean, what's wrong with a little give and take?"

"I have no idea what you're trying to say," Usagi said.

Misaki gaped at him. Then he closed his eyes tight shut. "Ifyouwantmetobeontopyouhaveto_let_me," he said.

"Pardon?"

Misaki opened one eye and stared balefully at Usagi. "Not saying it again," he said. But when Usagi continued to just look at him with that terrible lost puppy expression, Misaki sighed. "I can't _force_ you," he said, looking at the ceiling rather than Usagi's face. "You have to _let_ me. And I don't know what I'm doing, so you'll have to show me, as well."

Usagi moved and Misaki found himself unable to breathe, Usagi was holding him so tightly. He attempted to flail and Usagi loosened his hold a fraction. "I love you," Usagi said.

"Did you hear what I just said?" Misaki said, slightly irritated that he'd said a very embarrassing thing and been completely ignored.

"Yes," Usagi said and proceeded to rip off Misaki's and his own clothes in much the same way as usual – although faster, if anything, Misaki thought.

But then things felt different. Usagi straddled his thighs and they were face to face – which was new – and he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Misaki's forehead, before reaching over to his nightstand.

When Usagi brought his hand down between Misaki's legs it was cold and slick and Misaki jumped, both embarrassed and hugely aroused. Usagi soon let him go though and Misaki bit back a complaint – which was helped by the insertion of Usagi's tongue in his mouth.

Then Usagi had his hand on Misaki's cock and – oh _God_. Misaki lay there in shock, hands clutching the sheets convulsively, as Usagi rocked his hips, taking in Misaki's cock inch by inch. His eyes were closed but he was breathing sharp and fast – and when Misaki's cock was all the way in he opened his eyes and just _looked_ at Misaki.

Misaki had never before found it so difficult to hold back. The sensation was fantastic. He was surrounded by heat. And it was so _tight_. And now Usagi was looking at him. Usagi, who was—

"Fnghaaaah," Misaki said, incoherently, unable to look away from Usagi's face.

Usagi moved and Misaki nearly died. It felt eight hundred times better than a hand job. How did anyone last more than a minute, doing this? Especially when their partner – when Usagi was looking so into it, his mouth slack and his eyes glazed over.

Misaki came to a decision. He was obviously going to come in ten seconds and Usagi would never let him do it again. So he might as well make sure Usagi didn't last much longer, either. He reached between their bodies, taking Usagi's cock in a firm grip and moving his wrist.

He wasn't used to touching Usagi – but then he supposed Usagi wasn't used to being touched by him either, if it came to that. Usagi's eyes widened and his mouth opened even further. He groaned, and Misaki felt like doing an air-punch – except he didn't, because that would have been childish. And Usagi was moving faster now up and down Misaki's cock, his arms shaking as he held himself up (which was new). Misaki could feel his orgasm building, the curl of arousal gripping his stomach and tightening through his whole lower body. So he moved his hand faster against Usagi's cock and craned his neck up to capture Usagi's mouth in a kiss.

Usagi made a noise against Misaki's mouth and then Misaki felt his hand and stomach grow wet. Usagi had come. Usagi had _come_. First! The only problem, Misaki thought through his haze of victory, was that he'd stopped moving. And then he carefully rolled off Misaki.

Misaki sat up, scandalised. It wasn't fair! Usagi was such a bastard!

"Come _on_," Usagi said, in a voice that sounded different to usual.

Misaki stared at Usagi. Who was sweaty and messy, and _on his hands and knees_.

His legs felt like jelly but he managed to get up and kneel behind Usagi. He felt like an idiot when it took a couple of goes to get lined up, but when he pushed against Usagi's opening his cock slid in without difficulty. It was the noise that Usagi made that nearly undid him, rather than the feeling – although that was overwhelming enough as it was.

Misaki found that he couldn't hold back. He tried to be slow, not sure how easy it was to hurt Usagi. But Usagi didn't sound hurt. He was panting and pushing back against Misaki's thrusts. So Misaki gave in to his body's demands, gripping Usagi's hips with his fingers and pounding against him as fast as he could. He didn't last long – but his orgasm felt harder and more explosive than any he could remember.

Misaki collapsed against Usagi, who sagged under him. For a moment Misaki just lay there – aware that he was squashing Usagi, but unable to move. Then he rolled off, but he didn't get far. Usagi lunged at him, pulling him against his chest and burying his face in the gap between Misaki's neck and shoulder.

"Maybe the chocolate flavour," Usagi mumbled against Misaki's skin.

"What?"

"The protein drink. You didn't like the strawberry one."

Misaki nearly yelled out loud. Then he frowned. What did Usagi mean by that? Was that an insult? "Wasn't that good enough?"

Usagi's arms tightened around him in a stranglehold. Misaki couldn't have moved, even if he'd wanted to – which he did, because he could _feel_ his ribs cracking. "Better than good," he whispered. Then, in a more normal voice, "I'll hire a personal trainer for you as well."

"What?!" Misaki said, both confused and infuriated. What was wrong with stupid Usagi now? Why couldn't he ever just say what he meant?

"I don't want to have to wait until my next birthday to do that again," Usagi said, very quietly.

Stupid Usagi, Misaki thought. Stupid, stupid Usagi. "We can do it again before that, idiot," he said. And then realised that he'd done it again – he'd been manipulated into complying with pervert Usagi's plans, yet again.

"How about in ten minutes' time?" Usagi murmured.

"No!" Misaki said, wheeling his arms and trying to escape from Usagi's clutches. "It's time for bed! I have laundry and chores and cleaning to do tomorrow! Have mercy!"

Usagi laughed. It was, Misaki thought, a very, very dirty laugh. "We'll get a maid," he whispered against Misaki's ear.

As Misaki tried to escape, more out of habit than anything else, he realised that he'd entered a new and dangerous time in his life. But as Usagi pinned him down, kissing him over and over, Misaki came to a terrible conclusion in his mind: he loved Usagi. He really, really loved him.

So things would probably be okay.


End file.
